


Conforming to Non-conforming

by eccentricities_of_kitties



Series: Lingerie!Dirk [1]
Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Cute, Fluff and Angst, Gender Issues, Kinda hot too I guess, Lingerie!Dirk, M/M, Women's Underwear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 06:18:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13452282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eccentricities_of_kitties/pseuds/eccentricities_of_kitties
Summary: Prompt: Dirk tells Todd about how he started wearing women's underwear, their relationship only gets stronger the more open they are.(note: will delete transphobic slurs so don't bring that near my work pls, this is just about wearing what you like)





	Conforming to Non-conforming

**Author's Note:**

> "Ring Road" = a road that encircles a whole town

“I promise I won’t judge. Honestly, I’ve seen you wearing most of this stuff, just not all in one glittery ensemble, so I don’t think I’ll be very shocked or whatever.”

 

“It’s not ‘glittery’, Todd. It’s sequined. And I very much believe you’ll recant that statement in just a moment.”

 

“Alright, alright. Just...trust me, okay? Come out? Please? Dirk?”

 

“Okay. Okay. Alright. Ah, one second. Phew. Okay. Here goes. In a moment.”

 

“You’ve been saying ‘in a moment’ for about twenty…..oh...oh, jeez, that’s hot. Fuck.”

 

\---

 

Dirk was gay. Gay as fuck, actually. He’d known that before he even left Blackwing, but once he’d been free, all those years ago, he’d been exposed at last to a world of sexuality. Blackwing was a very male-dominated environment, at least for Dirk. The only female influence were the ‘Mrs Evil’s and ‘Miss Villainous’s that were Riggins’ higher-ups. Other than that 99% of his guards, doctors and generally anyone he ever saw were male. It meant he was rarely exposed to femininity, women’s clothes, or sexuality to any degree. One of the first places he’d gone was an ASDA, chasing a paper aeroplane that had a grafitti password written on it. 

 

He’d literally stumbled upon the underwear section; women’s. He was instantly fascinated by the many variations of colours, materials, and styles of women’s underwear, especially compared to the men’s. They were softer to touch, nicer to look at. He found himself wondering how they felt to wear. Everything he’d worn there was starched, dark, uniform, bland. Nothing was worn for comfort, nor for style, or fashion. Riggins sure tried with his suits but they were far from fancy and were the same 7 pin stripes cycled every day unless he was in combat clothes. He’d very rarely seen anyone wear nice, bright colours. Reds, pinks, oranges, yellows, these were rarely seen. Uniform black, navy, gray, khaki and white were what he was used to. 

 

Dirk loved bright colours, it was why he chose a lovely, sunny yellow jacket rather than something dark and boring. No one seemed to be looking. The agents assigned to him didn’t seem to have caught up to him quite yet. The money he’d randomly found in the glove compartment of the first car he stole was still in his back pocket. And there was a beautifully peachy-pink set that was well within his budget. Hmm. It was the rare occasion that Dirk would do something purely selfish, purely in pursuit of his own happiness. These detective cases, though he also loved them, drained him, both mentally (certainly when the Rowdy 3 were involved) and physically (being trapped in a facility for his childhood hadn’t exactly hardened him to the trials of exercise). Even since getting out he hadn’t really had a chance to enjoy the world. Hmm.

 

“That’ll be 15.99.”

 

Dirk stared at the cash-desk-thingy-person for a second, before getting out the handful of notes he’d kept. Fives, tens, twenties. 

 

“Here,” he said politely, offering a twenty.

 

“For the girlfriend, yeah?”

 

“Excuse me?” Dirk asked, confused. “Whose girlfriend?”

 

“....Yours?”

 

That was awkward. A couple more exchanges and Dirk left, fairly certain he’d given them a bad impression in some way, though he had no idea why at the time. There was a nice man a few streets away that had been giving him shelter while he tracked down the injured Emu that was accused of impersonating the Mayor. He made polite conversation and headed up to the spare room he was inhabiting, locked the door behind him and ripped off his clothes. Dirk looked at himself, naked, in the full length mirror. He’d never disliked his body, it was just a body, like any other. He’d often heard Riggins complain about his ‘beer belly’ but always assumed it was a personal preference to dislike fat in that area. Similarly, his files described his body shape as ‘thin’ which was...good? According to current societal standards anyway.

 

On the hanger holding the underwear, there was a small cardboard image of another person, modelling the set. She seemed happy enough to be wearing it, and it looked even better on than it did on the hanger. Dirk noticed he didn’t seem to have all the pieces though. She was wearing some knee-high boots that hadn’t come with the set, and jewelry that was also excluded. Oh well. It was still very pretty to look at. Slipping on the sheer, stretchy fabric was hard - it was so thin, it seemed to be almost tearing constantly. But it was more dense than it looked, and he was able to pull it high enough on the thigh to where she had it in the picture, on both legs, with only one small tear on the heel that he regretted immediately. 

 

Next he slipped on the briefs. Very comfortable. They were so smooth and silky, not all stiff and scratchy like standard clothing at Blackwing. Much more huggy than whatever clothes he’d been wearing since he’d been free, and twice as nice-feeling. Tight, but not uncomfortably so. The upper part seemed very tricky - lots of straps and holes to organise, but with a little effort he managed to get it on and adjusted correctly to his shoulders. Only one thing left, a strange slip of silky-lacy material that seemed to attach, according to the picture, to the leg-things in some way. He did his best, but couldn’t quite get it to look right. He gave up, and left it as it was. Amazing anyway. He looked amazing. In the mirror, at least, in his own humble opinion. He loved how different it was to everything he’d ever worn. Soft, delicate, so thin he felt like he was naked and covered simultaneously. He slipped his regular clothes back on over them and smiled in the mirror, glee in the realisation that no one would know what he was wearing. 

 

\---

 

“It kind of went from there,” Dirk finished, moaning around the last spoonful of salted caramel ice cream. “This stuff is amazing, can I have some more, please?”

 

Todd passed him the tub from the freezer. “So you just carried on with this hobby that you won’t tell me about right up until now? Why can’t you tell me what it is?”

 

“I have to show you, otherwise you might misunderstand,” Dirk explained, attacking the ice cream with vigour. “It’s complicated. But that’s how it began, not long after my escape from Blackwing. I just wanted to give you some context before I show you.”

 

“Okay, well, when are you showing me?”

 

“Tonight?”

 

“Now?”

 

“Tonight.”

 

“Now.”

 

Dirk saw Todd’s determination. “Okay,” he conceded, putting down the spoon. “Right now. But you’re the one who pushed.”

 

He got up and went into the bedroom, leaving Todd guiltily playing with the corner of the couch cushion.

 

“I’m not trying to push, I just don’t want you to feel like you have to keep things from me,” Todd continued when Dirk came out with something small and red in his hands. “What’s that?”

 

“It’s just something I like to do. So don’t make any assumptions, okay?” Dirk said, unfolding a small pair of silky stockings.

 

Todd took them, frowning. “You collect women’s underwear?”

 

Dirk flushed, looking away.

 

“You  _ wear  _ it?” Todd clarified, incredulous. “I knew you had that kind of British-Euro femininity to you, but I never suspected this. Are you trying to come out as trans?”

 

“No, I’m quite certain I’m a man. I just like to wear the...things,” Dirk said, checking Todd’s expression. “Would it not be okay...if I was trans?”

 

“Of course it would be okay. I just wasn’t sure what you were trying to tell me. So you just, like, you just like dressing up? That’s fine, Dirk. Totally fine,” Todd chuckled, handing him back the stockings. 

 

“It doesn’t bother you?” Dirk asked, and it was his turn to frown in confusion. “I’ve been reliably informed that a man wearing women’s underwear is wrong. It’s taboo - weird. Some people - they, they weren’t so….accepting?”

 

“Some people are dicks, that’s why. I don’t have any problem with this. I don’t have any personal experience with it. Did you think I’d be mad?”

 

Dirk looked down, his voice only a whisper. “A bit. Maybe a lot.”

 

Todd put an arm round him. “Listen, idiot, I love you no matter what. The only way I’d be mad about this is if you kept it from me for years. We’ve only been going out a few months, I’m just happy you told me this soon. I’m glad you could trust me.”

 

Dirk was tearing up. “Thank you. E - excuse me a moment.”

 

Todd let Dirk turn away to collect himself. "So, is there a term?"

 

"I've heard various words over the years. Drag, cross-dresser and other not so nice ones. Drag is performance, whereas I really just love to wear them, I don't really like flashing it around. Cross-dressing is an outdated term altogether, really. And I don't wear a whole outfit, so I don't know if it makes sense. It's not like I've been able to meet or talk to anyone in the same position so I don't have the advantage of being able to find out online or through friends. There's a descriptive word I took on as a word for it though - prissy, or priss. It means to be feminine, formal, proper or elegant. Some other meanings too but mostly I just like the sound of it," Dirk explained, and Todd watched the way he lit up, more and more as he spoke, with a passion. This was something he'd never been able to connect with anyone on. Todd was proud to be the first.

 

“Maybe...someday you’d let me see?”

 

“I - I suppose I could show you. You’d really want to?” Dirk was surprised. He knew Todd wouldn’t react violently in any way, but he wasn’t expecting it to be embraced instantly.

 

“Sure. This is important to you, it’s important to me.” And Todd decided, when Dirk looked at him, still tear-streaky, that he’d never allow him to feel bad about this particular part of himself. Not ever. He kissed tear-streaky Dirk, gently, and stood.

 

"Shit, I forgot I gotta pick up our dry cleaning. Want to come with, Prissy?" he added, with a wink and Dirk grinned ecstatically. "We can stop for ice cream."

 

“Salted caramel?” Dirk asked, lighting up. 

 

\---

 

“I promise I won’t judge. Honestly, I’ve seen you wearing most of this stuff, just not all in one glittery ensemble, so I don’t think I’ll be very shocked or whatever.”

 

“It’s not ‘glittery’, Todd. It’s sequined. And I very much believe you’ll recant that statement in just a moment.”

 

“Alright, alright. Just...trust me, okay? Come out? Please? Dirk?”

 

“Okay. Okay. Alright. Ah, one second. Phew. Okay. Here goes. In a moment.”

 

“You’ve been saying ‘in a moment’ for about twenty…..oh...oh, jeez, that’s hot. Fuck.”

 

Dirk had learnt how to properly put on all the bits and pieces, had collected the ones that went together best and slowly put together a favourite set comprising of his favourite ones. Sheer-lilac stockings, with little white bows at the tops, held up by a petal pink suspender belt. A dusty rose, sequin corset was carefully laced up, with a sunflower yellow collar around his neck. Small, lighter yellow bands were strapped to his wrists, with metal rings on them. Not conventional lingerie colours, he was aware, but he preferred it anyway. 

 

His face flushed a colour that matched the flowery tones of his outfit. 

 

“You really think it’s…hot?” he asked, and Todd grinned at his pronunciation of that last word.

 

“Mm, I like it. Actually, I love it. Turn around for me?” he asked, and that blush got deeper and deeper against lily-white skin.

 

Dirk turned in a circle awkwardly, and Todd noticed for the first time those little nude toned panties, cupping his boyfriend’s ass in just the right way. He got up for a closer look and Dirk grew shier than ever.

 

“What?” he asked, almost accusingly, hands fidgeting. 

 

“I just,” Todd began, reach out to let his hands stroke Dirk’s waist. “Really like it. You look so hot.”

 

Dirk let Todd’s hands wander, breathing short, scared breaths. Todd’s hands, on him, on these clothes. All this time they’d been going out, they hadn’t really done much beyond ‘making out’ as he called it, which Dirk preferred to refer to as ‘Todd lying on top of me for ten minutes attempting to suffocate me with his ridiculously nice tasting lips’. The few times they’d touched each other while in bed on warm mornings and cold nights, Dirk had felt completely satisfied and could only wonder what more he could possibly want from Todd.

 

“Is this okay? I can stop,” Todd whispered against his ear, his fingers tracing the collar, grazing the skin of Dirk’s neck.

 

Dirk swallowed, letting himself lean against Todd. “Absolutely, totally, completely fine. I - I would like to know what you’re going to do next though.”

 

Todd chuckled deep in his throat. “I just want to feel you. We can do more if you want to. I know we haven’t gone very far yet, but I get the feeling I’m more experienced than you.”

 

Dirk snorted. “I’m not a blushing virgin, if that’s your implication, Mr Brotzman.”

 

“Oh, well, my mistake then, Mr Gently. But,” and he pressed his lips to Dirk’s cheek over his shoulder. “You _ are _ blushing. Tell me more?”

 

“Well…” Dirk was caught off-guard, not expecting Todd to want to know more. “Um, I’ve travelled a lot, looking for cases, letting mysteries find me.”

 

“Exciting. Adventurous. Perfect for romance to strike,” Todd said, nuzzling at the base of Dirk’s neck.

 

Dirk squirmed, breathless. “Actually it was between the cases. I’d need places to stay, so I usually stumbled across hot, young homeowners who would happen to have a spare room. I was very happy to pay for their hospitality in whatever way they wanted.”

 

“The universe….arranged your sex life?” Todd was incredulous.

 

“It wasn’t per se arranged, it was just...convenient. It would usually just start with them asking me out, and me having to tell them no, my next case could take me anywhere. Then, he’d offer to just have a one-time thing and well...I was so curious. After the first time I started ending up in similar situations between every case.”

 

“What did you do for them, hmm?”

 

Dirk was distracted briefly by Todd’s hand wandering down his body, slow enough that he knew he could stop him if he had wanted to. 

 

“Kissing obviously, and sucking their - their” Todd’s hand got lower, lower, lower _ there _ . “And we’d have sex a few times while I stayed there.”

 

“I’m scandalised...here I was thinking you were so…”

 

“Innocent?” Dirk scoffed, momentarily distracted from Todd’s hand.

 

“Inexperienced,” Todd amended, and tapped at the waistband of Dirk’s underwear. “But you know what you’re doing? Protection, testing and stuff?”

 

“Yes, yes, Todd,” he muttered, attacking his boyfriend’s neck. “Thanks for asking, but for God’s sake, please fuck me.”

 

\---

 

Just once, just once, just one time, Todd would like to wake up the smell of pancakes and coffee. Unfortunately Dirk was no kitchen maverick, and he was often yanked awake by the fire alarm blaring, neighbours banging on their door, throwing dirty looks across the parking lot when they all queued outside, waiting for the building to be cleared. So, to be safe, he preferred to wake up before Dirk, and make pancakes and _ tea, tea, Todd, not that dreadful coffee stuff, tea _ , for his boyfriend. So this morning, when the apartment’s heater was working for once, when he couldn’t hear any construction sounds from outside, when there was a soft smell of something savoury, the only way he knew he wasn’t in heaven was that Dirk wasn’t right beside him. 

 

“Dirk?” he called out, slipping out of the sheets to look for him.

 

For a moment he was distracted by the feminine underwear strewn across the floor, smiled and stepped over them. He was seized for a moment by memories of tearing off lace and straps. 

 

“Dirk,” he repeated, poking his head out of their bedroom. “Priss? Hello?”

 

There was a clatter, some British angry mutterings and an audible scrambling before a flour-covered Dirk blocked the door.

 

“Sleep,” he demanded, almost petulant.

 

“Huh?” Todd yawned. “What are you doing?”

 

“Go back to bed.”

 

“What, why?” Todd asked, and played dumb so Dirk had to pant there in the doorway, a floured hand pushing at Todd’s chest. 

 

Dirk put his hands on his hips. “Todd Brotzman, get your arse back into bed right now, you're ruining my plan.”

 

Todd began retreating, grumbling. “You should've picked Dirk Sassy. Ain't nothing gentle about you when you get all angry.”

 

“Damn straight,” Dirk said, in a way that probably wasn't meant to make Todd chuckle wryly and call him a tough cutie. 

 

Sliding back into a still warm bed was such a good feeling, the relaxing thought of just another day with Dirk. The idea alone of his old job, shitty car, mind numbingly boring work schedule made him hold all the more tighter onto a pillow that smelled like Dirk. 

 

“It's not going to be as effective now, but…Todd, wake up, I have something for you.”

 

Todd rolled over, feigning waking. “Oh, Dirk, is that you?”

 

Dirk held a tray (actually a panel of wood they found on the floor after the Rowdies’ assault on the apartment) that had on it a plate of black-edged splatters that smelled deceptively like pancakes, with a few mushed, half-fried eggs and a mug of clap-cold coffee. 

 

“It's perfect,” he said, pulling Dirk into bed beside him and kissing his cheek. The shower of flour onto the bedsheets was ignored. 

 

“It will be next time,” Dirk promised, and Todd sighed. 

 

“Next time is my turn.”

 

“The time after that then, I'll get it right.”

 

Todd hadn't even picked up the fork to make an attempt at one of the less cremated pancakes when there was an urgent knock at the door. 

 

Dirk scrabbled to get dressed. “Can you get it, Todd?”

 

“One sec,” Todd grunted yanking on jeans. “Dirk, don't bother with all those bits, just wear the bra and panties, it looks great.”

 

Dirk sulked, buttoning a shirt. “I like the strappy bits though.”

 

Todd smiled at him quickly before having to grab a t-shirt and run for the door, which was being pounded again. 

 

“Coming,” Dirk yelled, tripping over his skinny jeans. 

 

Todd pulled the door open. “Uh, hi, sorry we weren’t ready for visitors.”

 

It was a Victorian dressed woman, with abnormally bright, alarmingly green eyes. If she stood in the street there’d be a traffic accident. She towered over Todd, but her imperious appearance was offset by a kind, honest expression. She glanced quickly behind her, tapping an umbrella anxiously, then did a double take at Todd’s lack of shirt.

 

“I can see that,” she huffed, out of breath. “But anywho, it’s very urgent that I see Dirk Gently, right away. I went to his address, but was told he was more often here than home.”

 

_ Not another Brit to deal with... _ Todd thought tiredly.  _ One person demanding that I show them where the real biscuits are is more than enough. _

 

“This _ is  _ my home!” came Dirk’s scandalised voice, and soon after his face, around the corner. “Nice to meet you…?”

 

“Agatha Drearax. I hate to be so rude, but would you let me in? I’m afraid there’s someone chasing me currently,” she said, ever so politely, as if asking for an extra sugar lump. 

 

Not the tone Todd would have used if he was being chased by the humongous, raging bull of a person barrelling down the corridor behind her.

 

“Of course, Agatha, come on in. Todd, does your door have the physics to handle this?” Dirk asked, in a similarly too-calm voice.

 

Todd pulled the door shut behind her. “Who the hell is that? Why is she chasing you?  _ Why does she have a battleaxe _ ?”

 

Dirk poked him. “Really, Todd? This is not your first case. I think such amateur questions can wait for later. The real issue right now is; Can your door  _ withstand _ a battleaxe?”

 

“I can explain everything, but we probably ought to pop out before she gets in here,” Agatha interjected, sparing a cursory, judgemental glance at the rubble in the apartment (“Dirk, I thought we agreed we’d do this together?” “That was before you put my incredibly delicate delicates in with your bloody Hufflepuff onsie. Sweep your psychic vampire-caused mess up alone.”)

 

“Is it a British thing?” Todd panted, holding back the door. “Why are you both so damn calm right now?”

 

“Well there’s no need to be rude, Todd, we just met Agatha,” Dirk scolded.

 

Agatha nodded, then nudged Dirk. “I’ll say. It’s like talking to someone from a ring road up North, if you know what I mean.”

 

They shared a knowing laugh, and Todd gave up on the door, pulling them both with him to the fire escape. 

 

“Go, go,” he panicked, grabbing his phone. 

 

Dirk and Agatha were one flight below him, all of them almost to the bottom when they heard the apartment being trashed.

 

“Not again,” Dirk grumbled. “I left my best stockings in the washer, they’ll smell like foist by the time we get back now.”

 

Todd sighed, and unlocked his car. “Let’s just go, she’s already found the fire escape.”

 

“Shotgun,” Agatha dibs’d happily, and Dirk conceded, sliding in behind Todd.

 

“Maybe I like this better,” Dirk said, reaching round to hug Todd.

 

Todd gave a forced, stressed chuckle. “Not a good time, Dirk. Here she comes.”

 

They managed to pull away from the street with only one or two giant axe-shaped holes in the back of the car. 

 

“That was close,” Agatha noted dolefully. “Now, we should put some distance between us. She’s quite the runner.”

 

“Alright, and while we do, will you explain everything?”

 

“Of course you will, won’t you Aggy?”

 

“Aggy?!”

 

“Absolutely!”

 

Todd resigned himself to his usual role on a case; being the only sane-sounding person there, while also being the least in the know. Like being the tour guide to a country you know nothing about with tourists who are actually locals. Twenty minutes into the drive, three renditions of ‘Chelsea Dagger’ later and still nothing had been explained. Todd let himself relax. It would get crazy, but Dirk would be there to keep him tethered. 

 

Just as he was thinking this, sunflower-leather clad arms wrapped around him again.

 

“Ready for the next one, Todd?” he asked, and leaned over the middle of the front two chairs to kiss his cheek.

 

“New case,” Todd confirmed, trying to show Dirk how excited he was. How happy he was to be with him. How glad he was that he could be there for him. Without actually saying it of course.

 

“New case,” Dirk repeated, and with the same hopeful thoughts.


End file.
